


A Letter In the Bark

by Bai_Marionette



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, I wanted to vent some negative energy into this, drabblefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bai_Marionette/pseuds/Bai_Marionette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a letter carved into the tree of her backyard. Lucky for her, her neighbor had complained of the apples having damaged his roof so her landlord was coming to take it down. She inwardly wanted to thank him - whilst at the same time, beg for the letter be salvaged and left to her.</p><p>It was all that left of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Letter In the Bark

"The guys'll come by on Tuesday, ah - maybe around 3? They just said afternoon, I'm sorry."

Anya nodded even though she was on the phone, absently thinking of her schedule for the week, "That is fine. I will take that day off from work to stay home and make sure."

It was no big deal, really. Her class had just had their last concert of the semester before summer break, she wouldn't be doing anything else to them but making them go over a few fun pieces. Nothing serious.

_"It's nothing serious, Anya. I'll be home in no time!"_

Her chest constricted and she suddenly cleared her throat as her landlord was going over something or another. He stopped and she apologized, saying that she had swallowed wrong and thought she had choked on something. The old man's slightly irritation at being almost rudely interrupted turned to concern, as he asked if she was all right. She said yes.

She wasn't.

:::

The men who were supposed to remove the tree came at noon.

She wasn't ready.

:::

She rushed downstairs in her pajama shorts and an oversized military t-shirt, breathing slightly heavy from her near breakneck speed going down the stairs. She had never liked her stairs, she wasn't that in shape and it showed. Not overly chubby, but just enough for her to turn to the side in the mirror and notice a muffin top in the formation. Alfred had used to pinch and pull at it, kiss down her breast and -

Her face hardened as she watched the men move to set up the removal of the tree.

The first tear fell.

She just wasn't ready to let go yet.

:::

"Hey Anya?"

"What?"

"Why do you have an apple tree if you don't like apples?"

The young woman looked over at him, going over a few papers she had left to grade from her class' musical note test. Damned freshmen were going to learn the hard way the difference between staccato and legato.  "What are you going on about now, Alfred?" She asked, pushing some stray hair behind her ear. Her light eyes went back to the papers before she gave up for the afternoon. Someone had equated legato to crescendo, she needed a break. She had earned it just by looking at that response.

"I mean, like," the blond pushed himself up on his elbows from beneath the tree. "You have this giant ass apple tree and you don't even like apples. What do you do when it y'know," he frowned, waving his hand before snapping his left. He could only snap with his left. "Bears fruit or whatever." Or whatever, his favorite phrase when he wasn't sure.

She licked her lips, a nervous tick that Alfred always loved to pick fun; he'd kiss the corner of her mouth and then her lips when they were alone. But he didn't right now, she wondered why. Maybe he really was curious about the tree.

"It was already in the backyard," she answered simply, hunching over her knees, propping one cheek on her elbow. "I could have it taken down but," she shrugged.

He hummed to himself, the both of them glancing up at the tree.

He suddenly grinned back at her, the shade of the leaves casting his tanned face into shadow and making his blue eyes seem just that much brighter in her memory. "I'm glad you didn't get rid of it. Now you can make me pies!"

She scoffed, getting up to get something to drink, looking back over her shoulder to give him a crooked smile. "You're such a pig."

:::

The tree was stubborn. It was proving to take more effort to get rid of it than the men thought.

Anya thought it was ironic.

:::

"I need more iron in my diet," she had commented over the stove one day, making breakfast. Alfred was shirtless at the fridge, sleepy eyes staring hard into the contents. He grumbled something, before shuffling over to her and putting his head atop hers.

"Whatdaya mean?" He said around a yawn.

"...How do you feel about spinach for dinner?" She answered instead, already imagining the face he made. Too tired to really stop himself, he'd make that childish expression. He had never really grown out of eating his vegetables. No wait, carrots didn't count. Bugs Bunny ate carrots and he was cool. Thus, carrots were cool.

"Can we get pizza instead?" He whined. She laughed, she didn't know why she laughed. She just did and when she did, she felt his heavy arms on her waist.

Everything felt right.

:::

"This don't look right, boss." One of the men commented about the tree.

"Yeah, I know," the other replied. "This tree is one stubborn sonuvabitch. Gonna take a whole day to get it out." He turned, yelling over his shoulder, "Is that all right, miss? Can we come back tomorra' if we don't finish?"

She just nodded, numb.

But it wasn't all right.

:::

Just like that night not too long ago.

Something hadn't felt right then either and she had let him go.

She had let him go off even when it didn't feel right and now he was gone.

:::

"Ugh." Alfred made a face at her.

She raised a brow back, "What?"

He pointed at her old car, "I'm gonna buy you a new car, I swear."

She looked affronted, "Why? It runs just nice, gets me from point A to point B."

"KIA sucks," he rolled his eyes.

:::

The more you know, they say.

They said his head rolled in the sand.

KIA also stood for 'Killed in Action.'

She could have gone without knowing.

:::

She hugged her knees on the porch, not even bothering to move all afternoon from her hunched position. She probably looked like she was looking right through those men, maybe like a predator. She felt like prey.

Prey to what, she just didn't know. She never got metaphors, Alfred was all about using them. He had been an English major, they had met online by accident. He had been looking for someone else but just he kept talking to her even after he helped her fix her dating profile. She had ignored all the other interested seekers, she found out he had been doing the same. They started officially dating back in 2011.

Alfred didn't tell her he was in the Army Reserves until 2014.

"It's nothing serious, Anya. I'll be home in no time!"

But something hadn't felt right.

Alfred was a highschool English teacher of a nearby school. He was nearly always swamped with papers, he had taught almost three hundred students and watched near 4 years' worth of them graduate. He called all of them his "kids." When he had announced he was dating the rival schools' music teacher, his students had pitched a fit. He had laughed, saying that they should better get used to their "soon-to-be new mom."

They hadn't even moved in together.

She hadn't even told him about her fear of marriage.

:::

She had found the ring he was going to propose to her with almost a week into cleaning out his things.

Found the box in a stupid Minecraft themed tube sock. There was a little folded piece of paper with his infamous script on it, he had tried to write his lines.

 ~~Wanna pull a Romeo and Juliet?~~ too soon

 ~~Be the mac to my cheese?~~ wait shit she's lactose intolerant

 ~~Whale you marry me?~~ what if she's a dolphin person goddamn it

 ~~We'd make one sweet pear.~~ fuck it

She had thrown the box, screaming and sobbing at the same time. Then she spent thirty minutes looking for the very same box in the closet where she had thrown it. She just wasn't ready.

Not ready for marriage.

Not ready for him to leave.

Definitely not ready for him to die.

:::

They say the good ones die young.

Was thirty eight still considered young then?

Or was she just a bad person?

:::

They left the tree by near five in the afternoon, it got too dark and the men took their leave. They promised to be back at the same time the next day, she barely remembered telling them she'd be home. Barely remembered calling the principal to request another day off. She thought he remembered telling her that it was okay and that the school year was coming to a close anyways.

She does remember lying awake that night, thinking.

Thinking of that damned letter carving in the tree.

That stupid A.

:::

"It's romantic!" He had proclaimed, holding up the carving knife, face full of pride. He was so proud of himself. The carving was crude, Alfred was hardly an expert at wood craving, let alone carving into a living tree.

She rolled her eyes at him, crossing her hands over her chest. "Really, Alfred?"

He looked so hopeful, she couldn't help but sigh.

"Fine, fine, we'll keep it," she said with a slight smile. "You're better hope my landlord doesn't see it and think we're damaging his property."

Alfred scoffed, "I'm such a rebel." He laughed, trying to twirl the knife and nearly nicking himself on the finger.

She laughed when he nearly dropped the knife in fright.

:::

She laughed, sad and broken, beside the tree.

It had taken over an hour. Time that she could have spent sleeping but she'd done it.

She'd taken the letter, thanking God that Alfred had done it on a young enough tree with soft bark.

She cradled that letter to her chest, the broken bark itching and scraping at her chest.

She didn't care.

:::

When the men came back in the morning, she had bags under her eyes. She didn't care.

When the men removed the last of the tree and carried it off, she said good bye. But she still didn't care.

All that mattered was the letter sitting atop her shelf next to the precious pictures. The picture of her and her sisters, her parents still young in their marriage before her father had left them, and ...

Her favorite: Her and Alfred at some silly theater, watching a live edition of Tim Burton film, The Nightmare before Christmas. It had been her favorite movie and he had taken her to see the play edition, she had beyond enjoyed herself. The picture was taken of her with the actor who played Jack Skeleton, still in full costume. She was smiling too big, arms wrapped around the man who grinned back at the camera just as wide. He was barely any taller than her, but she hadn't cared. Alfred stood on the actor's other side, he was just as excited as Anya but her happiness had made him grin big enough to show off the slight dimples in his cheeks.

It was her favorite picture. So she put the wooden fixture right beside it because it was special too.  
  
It was yet another silly thing Alfred had done out of being romantic. 

She smiled to herself, blowing cool air at her coffee.

 

**Author's Note:**

> nothing too big, just wanted to vent  
> having a few problems at the moment and i thought writing might help


End file.
